Gale Is Mine. I Am His. Anything

Not Daring To Flee Since My General Location Has Just Been Broadcast To Any Killer Who Cares. I Mean, I Know It's Cold Out Here And Not Everybody Has A Sleeping Bag.

You Can’t Miss Your Schedule. Every Morning, You’re Supposed To Stick Your Right Arm In This Contraption In The Wall. It Tattoos The Smooth Inside Of Your Forearm With Your Schedule For The Day In A Sickly Purple Ink. 7:00—breakfast. 7:30—kitchen Duties. 8:30—education Center, Room 17. And So On. The Ink Is Indelible Until 22:00—bathing

I Start To Crack At Four Hundred To One.

I Miss Him So Badly It Hurts.

But It's Not Safe And I Can Feel Him Slipping Away, So I Just Get Out One More Sentence. "stay With Me." As The Tendrils Of Sleep Syrup Pull Me Down, I Hear Him Whisper A Word Back But I Don't Catch It.